


The Case of the Mysterious Mona

by Dawnwind



Category: Invisible Man (TV 2000)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-13
Updated: 2011-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawnwind/pseuds/Dawnwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The partners go undercover to tail a woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Case of the Mysterious Mona

The Case of the Mysterious Mona  
By  
Dawnwind

 

Dawn was gilding the sky with delicate streaks of gold, rose and amber as a lanky figure sauntered down the path swinging a pink striped bag in his hand. Below the rising sun the sky shimmered with clouds rimmed in gold like they'd been specially gold leafed by Tiffany's. Everywhere the slanted rays of light decorated the garden with bands of light and shadow creating an artistic splendor any landscape artist would have craved to paint. Delicate pink roses and translucent white ones glowed in the warmth of the brightest star, turning their petal faces in glory of the aurora.

Darien Fawkes didn't give two figs for the beauty that surrounded him. He was up before his usual hour, had missed his favorite half-hour on television--Disney's 'Out of the Box' with that cute little minx Vivian, and hadn't had time to eat anything yet. At least he had a remedy for the latter. Plopping down on a wrought iron park bench, Darien opened his bakery sack with eager anticipation. The mouth-watering aroma of buttery English muffin assailed him and he grinned, extracting his breakfast from the bag. Despite the obscenely early hour to be on a stake out, an English muffin smothered in butter and a large French roast special blend from Starbucks woke a guy right up and put him in a decent frame of mind.

After whetting his appetite Darien adjusted a pair of headphones over his ears, punching in his favorite FM station on the mini radio. KTIT was in the midst of a Dr. Demento retrospective, bringing a fond smile to Fawkes' lips. During his teenaged years he'd spent many a night prowling Cold Springs scoping out prospective houses to rob while listening to the crazy doctor on the radio. Today's objective was only slightly more legal than his previous shenanigans, but it was sanctioned by the Federal Government. He was to keep his eyes open for a secret transfer of documents between two enemy agents. Only privy to the identify of spy #1, he was to ID the man's contact and observe the transaction, reporting back to Hobbes across the park who was posing as a horse and buggy driver. With any luck Hobbes would get a photograph of the enemy agent for the Agency's files and be able to tail him back to his--or her base of operations.

It was all in all, a safe, boring little operation that certainly didn't require getting up before the sun. Why couldn't spies conduct their business at a more decent hour?

"Boris, this is Natasha. You in place?" Darien asked quietly, speaking into the tiny receiver hidden by the larger radio headphones.

"Copacetic, Natasha," Hobbes' disembodied voice answered through Darien's ear jacks.

"Tell me again why the hell I have to be the girl?"

"Cause you're taller, Natasha," Hobbes emphasized the name. "You ain't Fearless Leader."

"Can't I be Bullwinkle, then?" Darien whined.

"Just call me Rocky, Bullwinkle," Hobbes chuckled. "Give me a shout out when you see our target."

"Over and out," Darien muttered around a bite of muffin. On the radio Dr. Demento's piping voice introduced a food themed set. Between Weird Al Yankovic's paean to Michael Jackson, 'Eat it', and the goofy thirties novelty tune 'I've got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts', Darien was hungrier than ever. He polished off the last of his breakfast, licking the butter from his fingers, suddenly in the mood for a Mounds bar but unable to do anything about the craving because he had to stay on his butt until the hand-off occurred.

Slouching down on his spine, chin to his collarbone, Darien mentally prepared himself for a long wait. And without anything else to eat, he was already completely bored despite Demento's humorous commentary on the oddball tunes he was spinning.

"Yo, Flying Squirrel," Darien hailed his partner. "See anything?"

"Fawkes, it's only been half an hour," Hobbes said, the transmitter not filtering out any of the annoyance in his voice. "Keep quiet."

"You're supposed to call me Moose."

"Bull headed, I mean 'Winkle'."

Darien hummed along to the tune of "Snoopy and the Red Baron' loudly enough to drown out Hobbes' teasing. "I'm not listening."

Trying to stay awake, Darien tossed muffin crumbs to a phalanx of warrior pigeons who clustered around his feet viciously fighting over the measly fare. He laughed aloud when the next track on Demento's playlist was Tom Lehrer's 'Poisoning Pigeons in the Park'.

A fair-haired man carrying an art portfolio under his arm set up his easel about 15 feet away and quickly began a sketch of the nearby flowers drenched in early morning light. Although the man's hair was blonder than expected, Darien recognized him as Spy #1, Victor Boghosian. He proved to be quite an artist and drew a beautiful view of roses and jonquils shining in the morning air, dew sparkling in the sun. Darien was so fascinated by the detail the man was able to capture with just pastel crayons that he nearly missed seeing Boghosian's contact arrive.

When a woman bent down to admire the colorful artwork Darien started in surprise. He recognized her. Not only that but he knew her well although she'd altered her appearance enough that he had to look twice to be sure it was she. Her name was Mona, the same woman who ran Mona's Beauty Supply.

Under normal circumstances Mona was a dumpy woman of indeterminate middle age with bottle red hair, who favored floaty Indian print smocks over elastic waist jeans. Today she wore a sleek blue skirt with a form fitting suit jacket that transformed her matronly figure into Mae West curves. A wig of tight black curls and smooth brown riding boots completed the metamorphosis.

"Rocky," Darien hissed. "Eeeny, meeny, chili beanie."

"Huh?" Hobbes replied in confusion.

"The spirits are about to speak," Darien repeated the old intro to a commercial break from the Rocky and Bullwinkle series.

"Are they friendly spirits?" Hobbes replied automatically, then groaned. "Fawkes, you got our target in view?"  
"Twelve o'clock high." Darien slouched down as low as he could hoping Mona didn't look his way. He was in her place of business often enough that she'd know him in an instant and he didn't have the luxury of a total makeover as she did. Although, it made sense that an agent would use a beauty supply shop as a cover. Instant disguises right at her silk-wrapped fingertips.

Mona spoke briefly with Boghosian, bending her head down examine the drawing more closely but Darien caught a glimpse of something pass between them, and perhaps slide into Mona's jacket pocket before she strolled away through the rose garden.

"Hobbesy," Darien watched her progress from behind a tree as the Quicksilver gland in the back of his skull secreted its silvery produce, causing him to go completely invisible. "She's headed your way. It's Mona."

"Mona?"

"Mona," Darien confirmed. "But today she's dark and curvy in a blue suit."

"That's not your Mona."

"She never was my Mona, but it's her. Just changed like the babe on 'Alias'."

"That ain't your Mona," Hobbes scoffed, catching sight of the woman in question.

Mona stood calmly on the corner not far from where Hobbes pretended to doze on the high seat of his ornate buggy. Patience, the dapple gray harnessed in the carriage's traces munched placidly on a nosebag full of oats.  
Searching the oncoming cars with an intent expression, Mona never noticed the scrutiny aimed in her direction so Hobbes was able to snap off a couple of photographs of her with the camera hidden in his tall black hat. She smiled when a bus pulled into view and, holding her fare out, boarded.

Hobbes sat up, slapping the reins to wake up Patience. "Fawkes, where ever you are, if you're coming, get here quick!" he muttered into the mic, glad that the bus had to wait for a red light. The other factor in his favor was that the bus had to stay on a determined route, meaning it would be nearly impossible to lose his quarry. Behind him the buggy seats creaked as an unseen body settled onto the scarred leather.

"Which way did she go, Dudley Do-right?" Darien's voice asked out of nowhere. He dropped his radio and ear phones down beside him and they suddenly came into view as the Quicksilver flaked off.

"Follow that bus." Hobbes flicked the reins as Patience set off at her usual sedate speed. With the usual morning traffic, even at such an early hour, they had no trouble keeping up with a bus that stopped every other block.

After only six stops Mona got off just where Darien could have predicted she would because there was her shop across the street. He took a deep breath to go see thru again so that he wouldn’t be seen, but the sight of the woman in front of the store sweeping the sidewalk so stunned him he almost lost his invisibility. It was a second Mona--the one he was used to, dressed in a sixties era embroidered smock top and blue jeans. The more fashionable Mona smiled brightly at her twin, and chatted for a moment before going inside. Finishing her sweeping, Mona #1 followed her.

"I'm going in to clear up the mystery of the Toni twins," Darien whispered to his driver. "Go around the block or something."

"Which one of the Hardy boys do I get to be?" Hobbes grumbled good-naturedly. "I kinda liked bein' Rocket J. Squirrel."

Darien barely escaped being mowed down by the street cleaning truck when he dashed across the street. The big problem with being invisible was that nobody could see him. That was, of course, the advantage, as well, since he easily sidled into the still unlocked front door of Mona's Beauty Supply and hid behind a rack of brightly colored barrettes and combs to listen to the two women speaking.

"Rona, you just got into town and you're flying to Paris already?" Mona moaned. "I never get to see you anymore."

"Business, sissy, you know I have to go where the work is." Rona had shed her black wig and was trying on a fairy tale cascade of blond curls in front of a full-length mirror.

"But when will you be back?"

"I'll send you the money for the mortgage, but I have a full plate for the unforeseeable future. Paris this month, I don't know after that."

"I just miss my big sister, that's all," Mona sighed, then handed her a brunette wig in a slightly more mature hairstyle. "Try this one, it's really popular lately."

"I like it," Rona proclaimed, jamming it on her head. She pushed the sleeves of her blue jacket inside out resulting in a cream colored jacket with gold buttons and a crest on the left breast. A pale blue silk shell was exchanged for the white blouse she had been wearing, and in only a few moments she was another woman, even down to a pair of blue and white spectator pumps on her feet. She fished sunglasses out of a big blue handbag, bussing her sister on her powdery cheek. "I'll e-mail you with my location, gotta run."

Getting into high gear, Darien was able to squeeze out after Rona without having to open the back door a second time. He took a last look at Mona who stood sadly next to the cashier's desk petting the blond wig like a small pooch before closing the door behind him. Rona climbed into a small red British car, roaring off with a gunning of the engine.

Luckily, Hobbes had walked Patience all the way around the corner by the time Darien returned. Using the high side of the carriage as cover, he dropped his Quicksilver covering and hopped onto the high driver's seat of the carriage, looking down at Patience's broad speckled rump. "Mona was really Rona. The other Mona was Mona."  
"You're repeating yourself," Hobbes deadpanned.

"Twins, Hobbes," Darien laughed. "Rona's on the way to the airport in a Cooper Mini." He reeled off the license plate. "Did The 'Fish send in the troops to get Boghosian or are we still tailing the Armenian Artiste to another exchange?"

"We're off the hook," Hobbes reported. "Seems Rona/Mona was the one they were after. Just lemme call in with her stats and our job is done." So saying, he pulled out his cell and gave Eberts the pertinent info. Soon after agents would be dispatched to the airport to keep further tabs on Rona, woman of mystery.  
"I felt kinda sorry for Mona. I don't think she knew her sister was a spy," Darien mused.  
"My sister doesn't know I'm a spy. Does your Aunt?"

"Point taken." Darien took a deep breath of slightly smoggy air, surprised to be enjoying the leisurely pace of the old horse. Leaning back he was able to snag his radio and set it on the seat between them. With a twist of the volume setting, Dr. Demento's voice blared out announcing the weird version of 'Puttin' on the Ritz' from 'Young Frankenstein'. "Where are we going?"

"I was thinkin' that we've never gone on a buggy ride together," Hobbes had both reins in his left hand and closed his right around Darien's. "It's about time, don't you think?"

"Once around the park, Rocky." Darien grinned, squeezing Hobbes' hand. "And then take a left at lover's lane. We just pulled more stake-out duty."

FIN


End file.
